Overture Downs you wore corduroy pants to your middle school dance

The lands beyond the mire were gentle and green, as though they tried to make up for the harshness of their putrescent neighbor. Sriracha was pleased to find land so fertile and green, and immediately sought ought a water source. Mud still clung to every inch of him, and in the sun it stank to high heaven. It was time to cast off this mantle of filth and return himself to some semblance of cleanliness. 

A cold, clean stream wound its way around one hill and then another. Sriracha whooped, uncaring fo who might hear, and barreled into the shallow stream. Immedately he began to roll in its shallows, letting sand and small rocks scrape away the mud. He rolled and splashed, and the water running off of him was thick and brown with mud. Also it was smelly.